Prodigy
by AnnLiberty
Summary: Tobias/Four contemplates what it means to be considered a Dauntless prodigy. Why does he have so few fears? In Dauntless, he is Four, mysterious and scary trainer, but can he let Tris know him as Tobias? She makes him feel brave, but brave enough to show his true self? One-shot set during Tris' initiation, before Tobias takes her into his fear landscape.


I pick my way across the damp rocks toward my favorite hidden ledge by the chasm. Amar showed me this place when I was an initiate and he was my trainer. He took me here because there were no cameras and no listening devices. No one ever came here, so no one bothered to keep an eye on it. Here is where he explained divergence to me. Here is where he talked to me about hiding that divergence during the second and third stages of my initiation. Here is where I came to cry without being seen after his body was found in the river.

Ever since that, this place has been my refuge. I love its wild seclusion. It feels like nature and outdoors. If I close my eyes I can almost imagine the feel of sunshine on my face. I mostly seek out this refuge when I need to think, and lately a lot of my thinking time has been taken up by a certain Abnegation transfer with long blonde hair and stormy blue eyes.

 _Tris._

Even her name makes me smile when I'm alone. I'm no gushing teenage girl with a crush, but I love the way she took off the past like an itchy sweater and took on her new life. She is brave without being reckless, powerful without being particularly strong, and cunning without being wicked.

It's the thought of Tris that has driven me back to my secluded spot by the chasm tonight. Today at training, I heard Eric talking to her. First off, my skin crawls and the hairs on my neck stand on end when he gets anywhere near her. Eric is a predator, and although Tris is not weak, she is still small enough that she looks like a snack to him. For another thing, Eric was mocking me, and he sarcastically used my least favorite description.

 _Dauntless prodigy._

I hate being called that.

For starters, it's not true. A prodigy is someone born with exceptional talent, like that Amity kid that could play banjo like a professional before he was old enough to go to school. Prodigies aren't _made_ , they're _born_ , and if they're lucky, they're discovered. But I remember being a kid. I wasn't fearless, or even brave. I didn't have amazing fighting skills or incredible aim.

No, I wasn't born Dauntless. I was born an Abnegation punching bag, afraid of my own father. I was little, and I was weak – physically and mentally. I had to fight for every ounce of muscle on my body, every grain of courage in my heart, and every skill I picked up along the way.

My reputation as a Dauntless prodigy is based entirely on the Abnegation traits this reckless faction doesn't understand. I don't like to talk about myself. I think of myself as 'private,' and 'distrustful;' they call me 'mysterious.' I'm afraid to show my weakness; they think that means I don't have any. I was raised to not burden others; the Dauntless think I can do everything on my own.

I came here as a scared sixteen-year-old kid trying to get away from my abusive father and become strong enough to defend myself. I did such a good job blending in that at the end of my initiation I finished first, yet no one remembered my real name or what faction I had transferred from.

When my fear simulation contained only four fears, I got a new name and a new reputation. And the Dauntless love bravery so much that they were quick to forget I was a transfer, quick to forget that I am an Eaton, the son of the Abnegation leader. They wanted to claim my lack of fears for themselves, so they wholeheartedly took me in and labeled me a Dauntless prodigy.

I have a theory about why I have fewer fears than most Dauntless. While they were growing up in loving families and an open community, I grew up isolated and unloved. Their lives were full of small terrors – embarrassing moments, pranks, strained friendships. My life was very small, and my few terrors were very big – being beaten by my father and experiencing the alleged death of my mother. After experiencing the worst that humanity has to offer, fears like public speaking and spiders lose their power. My fears are fewer than most, but they're also bigger and more personal.

I'm left with just four: heights, tight spaces, being forced to kill an innocent, and my father.

My fear of heights is the one I have to live with most. The Dauntless compound is full of ledges, glass floors, and stairways without banisters. I don't know where that fear originates, but of everything I fear, it seems the most logical. You can't suspend gravity, can't argue with it, can't control it. And if there is one thing I've learned in the two years I've been taking initiates through their fear landscapes, it's that most fear is about a lack of control.

The fear of tight spaces is another gift from my father. Before my mother died/left us, and afterwards, on days when he couldn't afford to leave marks on me, he would lock me in the tiny storage closet at the top of our stairs. By the time I was eight years old I was too tall to stand up in there. By twelve I had to roll up in a tight ball to fit. Sometimes he would forget me in there for long periods of time. Sometimes he would put me in there because he didn't want to deal with me. I remember too well the feeling of cramped muscles and my arms and legs falling asleep. The beatings were painful, but they were quick. The closet torture went on for hours.

Killing an innocent is the manifestation of my fear of Dauntless. They call me a prodigy and trust me with their initiate training and control room, but I don't trust them. I came here to escape my father. I laugh now thinking that I traded one brutal tyrant for an entire brutal faction. Sure, they're not hitting me (well, not since my initiation anyway), but with thugs like Max and Eric in charge, I never know what atrocities I'll be ordered to commit.

This fear also stems from my terror that I will become like my father. I came to Dauntless to learn how to defend, not to attack. But the skills transfer, and I know there is a brutality in me. I live in fear that someday my future wife, children, or just one of the initiates will push me too far and I'll become like Marcus.

I shudder at the thought.

Marcus still haunts my nightmares. I thought I could discard the past when I came to Dauntless, but it won't let me go. I have covered my back in tattoos, but the scars are still there if you look for them. Likewise I have put on this new identity, Four the Dauntless prodigy, but beneath it I am still made of Abnegation and scars.

When Eric called me a Dauntless prodigy in front of Tris today, she didn't seem phased. That's the only version of me that she knows. She doesn't know Tobias, the abused and frightened Abnegation transfer. She only knows Four, the mysterious and powerful instructor.

If I want to have any kind of future with this girl, I need to show her who I am inside. This may be the most Dauntless thing I have ever considered doing. I do not open up to anyone; even Zeke doesn't know much about me. But something about Tris draws me. Her Abnegation instincts are comforting, and her Dauntless spirit is inspiring. She makes me feel brave, maybe even brave enough to be myself.

I'm not good with words; actions are really more my style. But maybe there is a way I can show her who I am. Maybe I can take her into my fear landscape, then bring her back here to my secluded spot where we can talk safely.


End file.
